Michonne couldn't count the number of times she'd pulled her katana from the scabbard. The fling of the blade leaving the sheath was a familiar sound, and generally preceded an act that was one of necessity to keep her or those she loved safe. At this moment, the sound was that and so much more. It's was like a ballad that she, Rick, and all those who surrounded them had composed. The Negan Song. The lyrics were painful, but the music so sweet.
She had never been so happy to hurt to someone in her life. Even when she'd stabbed the governor, and she'd desperately wanted to kill him, the fact the man was strangling Rick is what prompted her into action. This moment - this was a pleasure. A necessary pleasure, but pleasure all the same. Blood lust was strong among the masses tonight. Even the hooting owls and chirping crickets seemed overstimulated this evening.
This place and that night had held such horrors. It was barely two weeks ago, but it felt like she'd been living with it for a lifetime. After tonight, the terrors that haunted this clearing would be somewhat exorcised. Nothing could ever change what happened, but the losses they'd suffered would not be in vain.
Michonne left Rick's side, quickly covering the few feet that separated her from her task. Negan writhed and groaned in agony, but she had more sympathy for the growling, feral dogs they were compelled to eat while on the road. With a quick swing of her sword, tendons, bones, and blood vessels separated, and Negan's right hand dropped to the ground. His anguished cries pierced the night air. Cheers erupted.
"You're not taking this like a champ," Michonne retorted, remembering the man's mocking words as he slaughtered Abraham. With another swing of the blade, she chopped off Negan's middle finger and stuffed the bloody digit in his mouth, busting his lips in the process. "I've wanted to give you the finger for a long time, you demented son of a bitch!"
Only the ties binding him kept him from slumping to the ground. Unconsciousness was close, but that would be merciful, and they wanted him awake for all of his punishment. Michonne flung the blood off the blade, speckling Negan's face, before leaving him with another kick to his crotch. The finger dropped to the ground as he cried out in unyielding discomfort. He was more alert now. She wanted to take his other hand or an ear or his nose, but there were many people and communities that deserved a shot at doling out retribution, and watching the man suffer felt pretty damn good.
"Good job," Rick whispered, slapping her a low five as she returned to her spot beside Carl and Maggie, Sasha, and Jesus made their way to Negan.
Shiva, the pet tiger of 'King' Ezekiel roared and paced anxiously around her master. Watching her rip the man to shreds would be fun, but over way too fast. The mammoth cat would have to wait for whatever remained of Negan when they were all through.
A tiger thriving in this strange new world was the last thing Michonne ever expected she'd see, but that was before she and Rick met the 'king' Jesus had told them about. That meeting brought on a whole lot of unexpected surprises: good, bad, and sad.
Two days earlier…
Rick checked his watch and sighed impatiently. He and Michonne had been waiting in the large auditorium over fifteen minutes. Sasha, Daryl, and Rosita had gone ahead with Tara in approaching the women of Oceanside, but he wanted to talk to these women, too. To let them know they didn't have to be afraid anymore. That even if they couldn't see their way clear to helping fight Negan, there existed men in the world who didn't slaughter children and intimidate women. "What is taking Jesus so long?" he said with a groan.
"He's talking to a king," Michonne answered, staring curiously at the castle mural along the front wall. "Maybe His Highness is holding court."
"Not so, fair maiden, but not a bad guess," said an attractive dreadlocked black man, entering the room from the far left side with Jesus and a very large man in tow.
This place was like a medieval storybook in 3-D, it even had a throne, but most of the kings Rick remembered from picture books were fat old white dudes. This guy wasn't at all what he'd had in mind.
"I am King Ezekiel, and…"
The man's words stopped when Michonne turned to face him. They both gasped in surprise.
"Zeke!" Michonne shrieked, leaping into the man's arms.
Rick blinked, his ears ringing from Michonne's scream and the amazing acoustics in this building. Zeke? How did she know this guy?
"Michonne Perrault!" Ezekiel spun her around and around. "I can't believe this."
Lips pursed, Rick watched the little exchange. Why was Michonne so excited about seeing him, and why was this guy spinning his woman? For the 'king's' benefit, he'd better be her brother or a cousin.
Ezekiel returned Michonne to her feet. "It's so good to see you again." He pressed his hand to her cheek. "Unbelievable, but so wonderful. You look wonderful!"
Michonne nodded and smiled. "You, too, Zeke. Oh, I can't believe it." She gave him another quick hug. "I never thought I'd ever see someone I knew from before again. It doesn't happen."
"I know."
Rick cleared his throat, way past ready to find out just how well Michonne knew this guy. "You say you knew each other from before?"
"He's practically my brother." Rick grunted. That word didn't please him. 'Practically' meant he wasn't family, yet he was way too familiar with Michonne. And any brother who looked at his sister the way this guy was eyeballing his Michonne should be shot, and Rick did have his Colt back. "Our parents were best friends," she explained. "We've known each other forever, grew up together. When exactly did you become royalty?"
"My ascent to the throne transpired when the world as we once knew it became no more." Ezekiel finally tore his eyes from Michonne. "Sir Richard, I presume?"
"Just Rick," he answered, closing his arm around Michonne's waist and bringing her close. If Zeke didn't already have a clue, Rick was determined to give him at least one. "Once things get settled, we'll have to invite your old pal to our house for dinner, Michonne." She turned to him, her brow raised curiously. Rick shrugged. He was being possessive, but Michonne was his. "I offered because I knew you would love the idea, sweetheart."
Jesus chuckled as Michonne scoffed. "Right, dear," she said.
Ezekiel's lips twitched with a wry smile. "I pray my delay didn't trouble you for too long. Sir Paul held me rapt with details of your plight."
"Zeke, let's lose the king speak. You know why we're here. We need your help. Jesus told us that your community has had trouble with Negan, too. If we all band together, we can stop him."
"Are you going to help us?" Rick asked.
"He wasn't too receptive when –"
Ezekiel's raised hand silenced Paul Rovia's words. "You wish this, Michonne?" he said, making his way to his throne with his bodyguard in close step.
"For all of us, yes," she answered with a nod. "It's the only way."
"Then you shall have complete access to the warriors of my kingdom. I shan't deny you anything, although I find myself questioning the wisdom of this undertaking." His eyes cut to Rick. "Negan is not one to be trifled with."
"I'm not going to trifle with him, I'm going to kill him," Rick stated in no uncertain terms. "Thanks for the help." He meant those words sincerely, but he was very ready to get Michonne away from Ezekiel and his undressing eyes. He clasped Michonne's hand. "We should get going."
"I beg a few more moments of your time," Ezekiel said, standing abruptly. "There is someone I wish you to meet. Joey, make haste and bring Morgan to me." The man nodded and departed. "The newest member of our realm is a wizard with the staff. He has been training one of our young soldiers, and I feel he could be of use in the raising of your army. He is quite remarkable."
Michonne's gaze met Rick's. Clearly she was thinking what he was. "Staff?" Rick repeated. "How long has he been with you?"
"Just shy of a fortnight. You know of him?"
"He's my friend."
"Did you know his acquaintance, Carol, as well?"
"Did we?" Michonne said, the man's use of the past tense not escaping her, either.
Ezekiel sighed sorrowfully. "I am sorry; she perished soon after she arrived."